


Arbor Blessing

by MidnightMinx90



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Brother Sebastian, F/M, Fenris dies, OC, Postpartum Depression, Pregnant Hawke, Unwanted Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-04
Updated: 2015-08-19
Packaged: 2018-04-12 23:15:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4498395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MidnightMinx90/pseuds/MidnightMinx90
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"However, it has long been believed that comfort and abundance follow where arbor blessing goes"<br/>An excerpt from The Botanical Compendium, by Ines Arancia, botanist</p>
<p>-----</p>
<p>Hawke and Fenris hunts down slavers and slave-owners after the events in 9:37. After Fenris dies at the hands on one such group, a pregnant Marian travels with the child they rescued, eventually ending up in the Redcliffe Chantry, where Sebastian is serving as a brother.<br/>-----<br/>Sebastian moved to Redcliffe after Hawke's first year in Kirkwall, so they never met.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It’s a cold winter night when Marian Hawke stumbles into the Chantry in Redcliff. There’s a storm outside so harsh it feels like the whole building will collapse, but Sebastian doesn’t notice anything but the woman and the young boy beside her.  
  
She collapses on the floor, the child’s hands the only thing stopping her from hitting her head on the cold stone floors.   
Sebastian is the only person on duty and for a moment he’s frozen still, before he leaps into action, running to the new arrivals.  
  
“Help me support her,” he tells he boy, the child at least seems to be in better condition than the woman. And that is when he sees it; her large stomach and the staff on her back. She’s pregnant and most likely a mage. Sebastian shakes his head, deciding to not do anything about the possibility she might be a mage just yet, focusing instead on her being pregnant.  
  
They seat her down on a bench while Sebastian fetches blankets and a dry robe for her, leaving the boy to dry her off and help her change as soon as she comes to a bit. At the same time he prepares a stew, noticing he’ll have to brave the weather come morning to find something on the market.  
He’s more than prepared to forgo food so the child and woman will have enough to eat – it’s not his first time fasting and the unborn child needs it more than him.  
  
Sebastian goes to find two cots as soon as they’ve gotten the woman to bed, but despite looking exhausted, the boy refuses to leave her side to get sleep. So Sebastian sits down beside him in front of the fire burning brightly in the hearth.   
  
“Might I ask who the two of you are, and what you’re doing out on a night as cold as this?” The boy looks at him, exhaustion in his eyes as well as that certain haunted look people get when they’ve seen something bad happen.  
  
“I don’t have a name. Serahs Hawke and Fenris rescued me from my master. I mean, my former master. I’m free now.”  
“Then where is this Serah Fenris?” The boy looks up at him, and it’s clear from the look in his eyes what had happened. Yet there is also a sense of pride there, at his words. _Free now._  
“Do you think you could tell me what happened? It might make it easier for me to help her when she wakes up.”  
The boy nods.  
  
\---  
  
“Quiet. They’re almost here.” Marian thinks to herself that Fenris telling her to be quiet – therefor making a sound himself – is quite against the point, but she understands why he’s nervous. She’s six months pregnant – _should have stayed home, away from here_ – but still helping him chase down slavers and magisters. The fact that she’s a mage could have made hunting magisters quite the ironic act – especially with a former slave at her side – but it’s not.   
  
The sound of footfall reaches them – thankfully not heavy, that would mean armoured guards – and they get ready to leap into action.   
They’ve done this many times before; ambushes, tipped wagons and fallen trees, glyphs cast on the road that will freeze or burn and distract some of the slavers or guards and hopefully not damage the persons they’re trying to save.  
So it should be easy this time too, or at least easy enough.  
  
They hadn’t known there would be a blood mage in the group; an error or deliberate act from the man who had offered them the information on the transportation of a young slave being sent to Tevinter ahead of his master.  
  
Marian tries to shield Fenris as best she can, taking on the blood mage on her own, leaving the guards to him. It’s a hard fight, fire and ice and lightning raining down, the ground beneath shaking with magical power as she attempts to throw the other mage off-balance enough that she’ll be able to take him down. But he stands firm on his feet, and just as she’s about to throw up a ward in front of herself, the other mage grins in a terribly frightening way as he cuts his wrist and instead sends spikes of ice at Fenris.  
  
A terrible, terrifying, blood-curdling scream fills the battlefield and Marian grows cold, so cold, all other feeling but revenge filling her entire being and she does what she vowed to her father, her sister, brother, mother and Fenris she’d never do.  
Her blood flows from an open wound, the only colour and warmth in a world that is bleak and cold and she lashes out in every direction at once, only avoiding the young boy because he had sense enough to run out of the way as soon as the fighting started.  
  
The area is once again filled with screams, only this time those of her enemies and not her, and when she opens her eyes again she’s the only one left standing.  
Marian runs over to Fenris and falls down on her knees, cradling his head in her lap as blood trickles out of his mouth and the gashes down his arms.  
But it’s too late, even if she did know any healing spells. The light is gone from his eyes, his body already growing cold in her arms. A sob escapes her as pain and grief tears her apart inside until she wants to claw at her skin in order to tear it out of her body. Instead Fenris’ blood seeps into her clothes, staining them as well as her soul.  
  
“Are you alright, Mistress?” At first she doesn’t understand where the question is coming from, but then she turns and looks at the young boy, no more than seven years, she thinks. He looks so scared that she feels a pang of guilt as the memory of what she did comes back to her. Marian tries to speak, but nothing comes out except another sob.  
  
“Who was he? Was he kind? Is that why you killed those men?”  
“His names is… was, Fenris. He used to be like you, once. Kindest man I ever met; trusted me even though I’m a mage and the man who was his master was a magister. ”  
  
\---  
  
“We’ve been traveling ever since. I’m not sure Serah Hawke led us anywhere in particular; she seemed so lost after she burnt Serah Fenris’ body. We went through Lothering on the way here, or what little there is of the place right now, but it seemed to only bring her more pain. So we came here, after weeks of walking and barely speaking to anyone. I was worried we wouldn’t get help in time, what with her belly being that big.”  
“Thank you, child, for telling me. And for staying with her, helping her. You’re both welcome to stay as long as you need, and I’m quite sure she’ll need you to take care of her now.”  
  
The boy yawns, then smiles at Sebastian.  
  
“Now, you should go to sleep as well. Serah Hawke will need you in the morning.”  
“Goodnight messere… What’s your name?”  
“Sebastian.”  
“Goodnight Serah Sebastian.”  



	2. Chapter 2

Sebastian tries his best to help Hawke heal, with help from villagers and het his far nameless boy. He had asked the boy his name the morning after their arrival, but the boy replied that had he ever been given one by his parents, it was long lost and forgotten. His master had never deigned to give him a name, because he claimed it would only bring a sense of entitlement and belonging.  
  
But what ails her is far more than malnourishment and a common cold, and it’s her heart that fares the worst.   
She’s not been awake for two weeks and she talks in her sleep, muttering two names; Fenris and Leto. Sebastian and the boy barely knows who Fenris is, but Leto is a mystery to them both and they hope it’s not someone else Hawke’s lost.   
  
She wakes up at last after almost three long, painful weeks, Sebastian almost interrupting the evening service to go see to her, even knowing she’s safe in the hands of the healer. As soon as he’s done he wills himself not to run to her side, still caring too much about appearances as taught to him by his family all those years ago. Only it’s for her sake, not his own that he keeps his pace as close to his regular as he can.  
  
The boy is there, of course, having been unwilling to leave her side ever since she saved his life. The healer hadn’t mind, to Sebastian’s surprise, but had instead enjoyed having an elven child around. She’d even vowed to teach him about herbs if he wanted to, and he’d been ecstatic at the suggestion, finally allowed to learn something, finally given a choice in something.   
  
When Sebastian arrives, Hawke is seated in front of the fire, cocooned in blankets, a cup of something warm in her hands. She looks like shit, Sebastian thinks, but doesn’t say anything.   
There are dark rings around her eyes, her cheeks hollow and her skin looks like wax. Hard to say she’s alive even, her eyes so dark and lacking any hint of life. But she’s breathing, politely listening to the boy talking animatedly about Sebastian, about what he’s learnt since arriving, that he’s never left her side and that he helped the healer gather herbs for potions and food.  
  
Sebastian talks quietly to the healer outside her hut while the boy continues his ramblings inside. No, there’s nothing new, except that she woke up and managed to eat some food on her own, and she’s not spoken anything while she was in deep sleep that she’ not already said.  
He thanks her again, and then heads back inside to talk to this mysterious Serah Hawke and gather some answers.  
  
\---  
  
Her name, it turns out, is Marian. Until not that long ago she was a citizen of Kirkwall, after having fled Lothering during the Blight. She had been Champion of Kirkwall, then Vicountess for a short time, before she fled the city with her elven lover in order to protect it.   
  
“So Fenris is the father of your child then?” Sebastian asks, seeing pain flare in her eyes before all emotions become dulled again.   
“Yes,” Marian answers, her voice barely a whisper.  
“And who is Leto? You’ve been saying both names while you were… asleep.”   
“They’re the same.” The pain returns to her eyes, but she continues talking. “He was a slave to a magister, who named him Fenris; his _little wolf_. His mother named him Leto, and I was getting better at calling him by his original name, as even after we killed his former master, he still couldn’t quite believe he was free. He used to hate magic, you know? He suffered at the hands of magic, had lyrium branded into his skin and all memories of his past life stolen. And then he found he had a sister, and she told him his name was Leto and that he had undergone all that pain in order to free her and their mother from slavery.  
“And despite all the pain magic had brought him, he still fell in love with me and trusted me. He used to claim ‘ _what has magic touched that it hasn’t spoilt?’_ and then he stopped. He trusted me, a mage, loved me enough to say ‘ _I’m yours’_.”  
  
She paused, coughing, her throat raw from speaking so little the past three months. Sebastian hands her a pitcher of water, and she drinks straight from it, almost all at once.   
  
“I’m sure you heard the Chantry was blown to bits by a mage? I decided to take Fenris and leave in case the Divine would send out a new Exalted March. For the city, and for us. Being a Vicountess was one thing, but a mage at that? With a former slave at my side? Not that what we chose instead was any less dangerous, but at least we didn’t put our friends and family in danger. I guess it was peaceful, in a way, the two of us alone out there. Sounds ironic, I know, calling hunting slavers peaceful, but after surviving the Blight, surviving Kirkwall and all the losses we both experienced before, during and after, it kind of was.”  
  
“You don’t have to keep talking, you know. Not if it’s too hard for you,” Sebastian tells her, and it seems it’s only then that Marian discovers the tears running down her cheeks.   
“Thank you.”  
  
They sit in silence; the only sounds that of the young boy sleeping and the crackling of the fire. The healer has gone to the Gull for a meal and won’t be back for a while yet, but Sebastian finds he doesn’t mind the silence.   
  
“So, you don’t sound like you’re from around here. Care to tell me?” Sebastian simply smiles at her, then launches into a tale of his childhood in Starkhaven.  
  
\---  
  
Sebastian returns the next day, and shares stories with Marian and the boy while the healer gets some well-deserved rest and a hearty meal.   
  
And so the days pass into weeks, stories and tales they’ve experienced and heard, as Marian grows healthier and the hollows in her cheeks fill out. Her hair is still a shapeless short mess after they cut it; Sebastian had thought it a shame to cut hair that had been grown out so long, but it was a tangle with caked blood and dirt, _no use in trying to wash it_ , the healer said and cut away so much that Marian appeared a totally different person.  
  
\---  
  
Then she goes into labour, the first day the spring comes carrying warmth.  
  
Sebastian’s never witnessed many births in his life, but this is the longest. He’s permitted to stay at Marian’s side for support; the bones of his hand feels like it’s almost crushed to dust by her grip.   
The boy, now having chosen the name Dareth, helps the healer with water and herbs and cloths, running frantically to and fro, excited and nervous at the same time.  
  
It’s a long progress, Sebastian spending the time quoting the Maker’s words to Marian after having found she’s Andrastian. He’s learnt not to take it for granted that the persons showing up in the Chantry are religious of any kind, no matter their race.  
  
Just at it feels as though Marian’s screams will never end, a new voice joins hers.   
  
“It’s a girl,” he healer says, sounding exhausted herself and happy the ordeal is over. She cuts he cord, wraps the babe in a blanket and goes to hand it to Marian to see and hold.  
  
Only Marian’s grown still, quiet, looking at the baby with the pointed ears and hints of dark hair and there is no emotion in her eyes. She looks only exhausted, not happy or ecstatic as one expects mothers to be when presented with their child safe and sound.   
  
“Marian? Are you alright?” Sebastian can feel his own voice thick with worry, not knowing what to think of the scene in front of him. “Don’t you want to hold your daughter?”   
She looks at him, and the emptiness on her face and in her eyes terrifies Sebastian to the core, though he knows not why.   
  
The crying pierces the air, and the healer looks at Sebastian with hard determination in her eyes.  
“Go to the Gull, there should be a young woman there, elven, arrived only three nights ago for the purpose of feeding this one. Tell her I sent you, and then take Dareth back to the Chantry with you.”  
  
Sebastian does as she asks, daring nothing else.   
“Dareth, you heard the lady. Serah Hawke needs rest, and so do you after all that running to and fro.”  
“But…”  
“No but, child. Best not to go against the healer’s wish.”  
“Can I come back tomorrow?”  
“We’ll see what she says, Dareth. We’ll see.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Post-partum depression

It’s clear something’s wrong with Hawke, right from the start.   
  
She doesn’t want to see her daughter, gets angry whenever she’s reminded of her and seems catatonic most of the time.  
  
The child cries for her mother, for the warmth of her embrace, but receives no love or attention. The woman the healer had brought in now resides with the healer, while Hawke herself stays in the house next door. If she can hear her daughter cry, she shows no sign of if, instead she only sits in a chair and looks out the window at the village. It seems to Sebastian that she doesn’t _see_ anything, doesn’t know or care what goes on at the other side of the door.  
  
Sebastian and Dareth both try to talk to her, but not about the child, never about the child. Sometimes Hawke mentions Kirkwall or Lothering, former friends and comrades the family she no longer has and the brother she no longer knows is alive or dead, _the Wardens are always on the move, doesn’t know where he is, doesn’t know if he cares_.  
She rarely mentions Fenris, but she swaps between his names – _Fenris and Leto are the same but not_ – every time she does.   
  
Dareth will later tell Sebastian that he knows the difference now, between Fenris and Leto – that Leto was the first and last part, _the young boy before being a slave and the man who was finally free from his ties_ , and that Fenris was the tormented man she met in Kirkwall, _the man who was an escaped slave but still wore his shackles because he never knew that he could remove them until she showed him how_.  
  
Hawke’s hair is shabby, hangs down in her eyes when she bends her head forward, matt and lifeless and unnoticed by her.   
They try to get her to bathe, but it turns into her sitting in a chair or – if they’re lucky – in the tub, only the goose bumps on her skin revealing any reaction to the cold water when they pour it over her.  
  
From the erratic conversations which most often lead to nowhere in particular and leaves her looking even more fragile than she already does, Dareth manages to extract what she used to do before, when she was resting, curled up in bed or in front of the fire.  
  
So Sebastian gathers the few books in the Chantry, and others again from villagers who are willing to loan them to the kind Brother who looks after them all. And if they’re somehow able to resists his roughish charm, he sends Dareth to them, because he’s yet to meet someone who is immune to the doe-like eyes and his eagerness to help Hawke get better.  
  
They never call her Hawke though, speak of her only as Marian and let no one but the healer and nursemaid see her for fear they’ll learn she is _the_ _Champion of Kirkwall_ and the unwanted and not needed attention it might bring her. Not even Arl Teagan knows it’s her, which is for the best considering the attention _that_ might bring her.   
  
Hawke grows thinner every day, until her cheeks are hollow and sallow again, until Sebastian fears her body will soon be unable to take her weight as she moves between her chair and bed. Her muscles are completely gone, no sign of them left, Hawke’s entire body wilting away like a flower without water and sunlight.   
  
Neither Sebastian nor Dareth gives up on her, trying as best they can to make her better, but she’s getting less sleep, spending up to hours each day and night crying or on the verge of tears. Sebastian tries to pray with her, but she falters quickly, unable to focus for more than a short while at a time. She almost doesn’t speak at all, and when she does it’s to complain about her stomach and head aching.  
  
They try, carefully not to anger her, to tell her that it hurts because she doesn’t eat enough, doesn’t drink enough, be it water or healing brews, but she gets angry all the same, attempting to shout at them to get out, to leave her alone, to stop pestering her, but there’s no heat to the anger in her voice.  
  
Sebastian looks at Dareth and sees his own worry and fear reflected in the warm brown eyes, and he hates that the boy should have to suffer this.  
  
\---  
  
Three weeks after the birth of her daughter, Hawke leaves.  
  
Sebastian brings Dareth to see her, to attempt again – as they have every day – to get Hawke to eat something, anything, _can’t stop trying_ , but she’s gone.  
  
They ask around the village, trying to see if anyone’s seen her, heard anything, know anything but they don’t.   
At last, at the second to last door, they find an elderly woman who claim she saw a figure leave the house Hawke was staying in. The figure had left in the middle of the night, and, well, she hadn’t seen much, but had heard the creaking of the door and seen movement away from the house but hadn’t thought something was wrong until asked.  
  
Because of course all of Redcliffe knew there was something off, something not quite right about the woman who had come staggering in during the worst winter storm the village had seen in a couple decades with a boy in hand. Whispers were abound after they never saw her out of the house, and never with her child. _Something’s not right with that one._  
  
Sebastian sends out letters to other Chantries, asking about Hawke but never mentioning a name, but gets nothing concrete back, only mentions of vague mentions overheard on the streets, but never enough to be sure it’s her.  
  
“Is she gone, Sebastian? Do you think she’ll be back?”  
“I don’t know, Dareth. We’ll just have to take care of her daughter either way, and never tell her that her mother never wanted her, not until she’s ready. Promise me that?”  
“I promise.”


End file.
